Worlds Apart
by ScaredandConfused
Summary: AU, Kieron doesn't die fic, set 18 months forward and slightly sideways from the current HO time-line. JPK. M rated for slashy smutness in chapter 7. On Hiatus; the story has a conclusion, but I'm with two minds about carrying it on.
1. Wednesday

**AU, Kieron doesn't die fic, set 18 months forward from present day Hollyoaks.**

**A/N - Since I have no clue what John Paul is reading at HCC, I have him reading English.**

**Disclaimer - I don't own HO. Obviously.**

-- **Part 1; Wednesday** --

Kieron Hobbs stared at his watch, willing the second hand to tick just a little bit faster. His lunch break, the half hour he spent ambling through the high street shops was passing far too slowly. It was always the loneliest point of his day, the time when he couldn't divert his mind onto his patients or football or drinking. It was the time of the day that he missed _him_ the most.

John Paul McQueen stared at his watch, willing the second hand to tick just a little bit faster. This lecture, just before his lunch break was passing far too slowly. He didn't particularly care about 'cultural reproduction' or its relevance to Dickens's novels. He didn't particularly care about any of his lectures any more, especially those painful lectures he had to take about romantic fiction. In those books the couple always ended up living 'Happily Ever After.' But that hadn't happened for John Paul. He didn't even know where his love was. But that didn't stop him from missing _him_.

Kieron pulled the pint up to his lips and took the first sip of the evening. He smiled as he put his drink down; beer was always a relief for him. He was alone at that moment, although he wouldn't be later, his friends should be joining him before long. Football buddies he had met the first time he had entered this pub, eighteen months ago. Steven & Matthew would be here soon enough, they wouldn't have come straight from work, as he had done; they would have popped home, to see loved ones. Steven's missus and Matthew's wife and twins. Kieron had met them all, but he was the single one, and he never saw them unless he had a pint in his hand.

This Wednesday night saw his team playing in the Premiership, but it didn't matter who was playing. Football and the beer were simply distractions from normality, distractions from the emotions he kept bottled up inside. Loneliness mostly, and an overwhelming feeling of loss that he had never managed to overcome. Sometimes, when he was slightly drunk and feeling philosophical, he found it ironic that he was working as a counsellor when he himself could do with counselling. He had trained quickly in his new profession, gaining a qualification in a year, and he had been practicing, attached to a local university counselling service, for 6 months. The training had been a brilliant distraction; he had thrown himself into it and done well. Surprisingly well, he thought.

"Hey, mate, would it hurt you to smile?"

Steven had walked in and thumped Kieron on the back. He managed a half smile, glad for the interruption. If he had been left alone with his thoughts for much longer they would have turned to summer 2008 and that always left him glum.

"Another pint?"

Steven motioned towards Kieron's, now empty, glass, and Kieron nodded. He was never one to turn down a pint.

"Matt's late again." Kieron eventually initiated conversation, after his second pint was placed before him.

"Yeah, he'll miss the start of the game if he's not careful. Sue's probably making him do the dishes or something."

Kieron nodded. It was Matt's stock excuse – the missus.

"Ought to be a good 'un tonight."

Kieron nodded, although he wasn't sure who the Gunners were playing. But Arsenal always drew a big crowd in this area of North London – and tonight the pub was heaving.

"It better be. The Reds are going down!" Matt had finally walked into the pub, but it wasn't that that Kieron was focused on. The Reds. Liverpool FC. _His_ team.

John Paul pulled the pint up to his lips and took the first sip of the evening. He was glad lectures were over for the day, it made the end of the day seem nearer. At least the footie tonight should keep his mind off things. He was, however, still sitting on his own in the Dog; Kris was halfway up the bar serving one of this years Freshers, an alright looking guy but far too full of himself, in John Paul's opinion. He thought Kris had already been there, but maybe he was wrong. John Paul was also waiting for Zac, still hanging around Hollyoaks almost a year after he had finally completed his course, and Malachy, with whom he had become mates, especially since Malachy spent so much time at the McQueens, were John Paul was still living. He had moved back 18 months ago, after _he_ left, and he hadn't moved out. Yet. He really needed to, and soon. It might only be Mercy, Cala and his mum, but they were driving him mad.

Still, at least he had his football. Liverpool were playing tonight, and a good game, mates and a few pints were just what he needed to take his mind of things.

"You still moping?"

Kris was still as blunt as ever, and he was walking towards John Paul's, now empty, pint.

John Paul gestured for a refill, electing not to answer Kris's comment.

"He's not coming back, you know. You need to move on. Simon's available if you want. Good in bed to."

"Oh, because he wants your leftovers now. Give the lad a break."

Malachy had entered the bar, his usual jovial self. Kris simply sneered in reply, handed Malachy a beer, and walked down the bar to serve another customer. The Dog was quite busy for a Wednesday evening; punters eager to watch some football on the new screens.

"Good game do you reckon tonight?" Malachy asked John Paul. He wasn't entirely sure who the Reds were playing, but it didn't really matter anyway.

Zac, walking into the Dog, answered for him. "It better be. The Gunners are going down!" Zac had finally arrived at the pub, but it wasn't that that John Paul was focused on. The Gunners. Arsenal FC. _His_ team.

Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be up soon.


	2. Thursday

--**Part 2; Thursday**--

Kieron hated Thursdays. There was always the promise of the weekend looming, but you were never quite there just yet. And Thursday nights were always the emptiest for him. Wednesdays had football, Friday's they were always in the pub, but Thursday nights usual just ended up with him, sitting in front of the TV, drinking a beer, and thinking. About him.

Eighteen months, it had been eighteen months since they had last spoken. Since that awful moment he had ended things. Had it been jealousy, madness, or the truth? But if it had been right, why did he still think about it, think about _him_, constantly?

He had made an odd sort of bet with himself, something he rarely did. If Arsenal won, he would stay in London, and if Liverpool won, he would go up and see John Paul. He even wrote it down, so he wouldn't forget it. Some odd kind of drunken logic, he decided when he woke up in the morning. Some odd kind of drunken logic, that didn't even work out. The teams had drawn 1-1, and he had neglected to make a decision.

He glared at the television, currently showing a re-run of Top Gear. The audience were laughing at one of Clarkson's jokes, but he didn't find it particularly funny. He tried to divert his attention to the programme, but he was failing desperately.

It was probably the beers, but he found himself reaching for his phone. Writing, deleting, and re-writing messages. Should he send one? Would John Paul even get it, after 18 months he probably had a new phone, a new number. Still, you didn't get anywhere if you didn't try.

He didn't try. He never did anymore. He downed his beer, and opened another one, throwing his phone onto the end of the sofa. John Paul wouldn't want to hear from him. Not now. Not after so long.

John Paul hated Thursdays. Most people had a phobia of Mondays, but it was Thursday that he detested. It was almost the weekend, and that was the problem – the anticipation. He didn't want it to be almost the weekend; he wanted it to be the weekend. Friday night, when he had his DJ regular set. He lost himself in the music, and just enjoyed himself. It was a feeling he rarely got to experience.

Another reason he hated this Thursday was the anticipation. This Friday, he wasn't playing his usual Chester gig; he had a gig in London. London! In a huge club with hundreds of people dancing along to his set. He was excited and scared and nervous and thousands of other emotions at once, but the worst part was the anticipation.

He was trying to distract himself, so he flopped down in front of the TV, and started to channel flick, stopping when he came across Top Gear. It had been one of Kieron's favourite programmes. It probably still was, he thought. He wandered if Kieron was watching it. As the audience laughed at one of Clarkson's jokes, he wandered if Kieron would have laughed.

Eighteen moths, it had been eighteen moths, and he was still thinking of Kieron. He doubted Kieron would be thinking of him. Still, he wandered how he was. He knew Kieron was in London, where he himself would be in only a few hours. He picked up his phone, flipping it around trying to decide if he should text Kieron, see how he was. They could even meet up. It would be nice to see him after so long. But what if he had changed his phone? Still, he wouldn't get anywhere if he didn't try?

He didn't try. What was the point? Kieron wouldn't want to hear from him. Not now. Not after so long. Not after what he did.


	3. Friday

**A/N Thank you Unsolved & Electro Girl RID for the reviews, hope you enjoy the next bit :-)**

--**Part 3; Friday**--

**8:00 am. **

Kieron's shrill alarm dragged him from his peaceful dream. In his dream, he had been back in Hollyoaks, reliving that wonderful night after John Paul had proposed. Back then, life had seemed so simple, so easy, so happy. It was a shame all good things had to come to an end. He didn't want to get up, he really didn't want to face the world, but he had to get to work.

Pulling himself up and out of bed was a chore, but once he did he fell automatically into his morning routine; washing, dressing, breakfasting. It took him his usual half an hour to leave the house, and soon he was on his normal bus crammed in with all the other commuters, on his journey to central London.

**8:30 am.**

John Paul's shrill alarm dragged him from his nightmare. He was glad to be awake – he hated the world his dreams always took him to. To those horrible few days at the end of his relationship with Kieron. He had screwed up so badly, and never seen the man he loved again. He always wondered why he couldn't relieve the happier memories in his dreams, but he didn't. His mind was punishing him for being a selfish, stupid man, and there was no getting away from it.

He pulled himself up from his bed, and gazed around for some clean clothes. There must be some, somewhere in this room. His room was far from tidy, however, and every top he picked off the floor appeared to have a stain on it. Eventually he found an old top, a green and yellow striped hoodie he hadn't worn in ages, and grabbed boxers out of a drawer, snatching some jeans as he made his trip to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later he made his way into the kitchen, and opened the door to the fridge. No milk, as usual. He shoved some bread into the toaster and waited for it to burn, pulling it out again just before it turned completely black. He dashed out the door and made it to his 9:00 am tutorial, just on time.

**1:00 pm.**

Kieron's felt his phone vibrate, just before his lunch break. He was, however, still with a patient, and unable to check it until he had left the office. He read the message as he walked towards the shops.

_Kieron, hope u didn't forget im comin down ths wknd! C u at 6 at Eustn. Miss u! Emmy xx_

He hadn't forgotten about his sister, Emily's, planned visit. It had hit him late last night, but he had enough food in for dinner tonight, and he would make up the sofa bed later. Emily was younger than him, 24, and lived and worked in Birmingham. They saw each other about once a month now, far more frequently than he saw his parents, and this month she was coming down to see him, and staying for the weekend.

* * *

**3:00 pm**

John Paul had arrived at Chester Station, about half an hour ago, 30 minutes before his train was due to leave. He had bought his ticket, and found a bench on the platform, sitting down to wait for the train. In his head, he was thinking about his gig that night, about what he would play, in which order. His anticipation had pushed all other thoughts out of his head. His phone buzzed, and he looked down. It was from Mark, the manager of the club he was playing, and contained directions.

He looked at the time – 3:05 – and then looked up at the departure board, now showing that his 15:03 train was delayed by 15 minutes. This was one of the biggest gigs he had ever played, and he really didn't want to be late, but it seemed to be out of his control. He wouldn't be in London until around 6 o'clock now, not the 5:40 he had anticipated.

**6:00 pm**

Euston station was full of busy rush hour commuters, all escaping London for the weekend. Kieron was standing in the middle of the station concourse, waiting for Emily to call him, so they could attempt to find each other among the crowds.

_The next train to depart from platform 11 will be the 18:10 service to Wolverhampton, calling atCoventry, Birmingham international, Birmingham New Street, Sandwell and Dudley and Wolverhampton. _

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Hi Kieron"

"Hi Ems. I'm in front of Smith's."

"OK I'll see you in 2"

Kieron didn't reply. He was silent, dumbstruck, as he saw a blond haired, blue eyed boy, he never thought he'd see again, walking across the concourse. Walking towards him. His heart stuttered to a halt. There were millions of people in London, and it could have been anybody, but he knew who it was. John Paul McQueen.

He continued to watch him, as he walked towards the tube entrance, and disappeared down the escalators. He thought he'd never see him again, and yet, there he had been, in the middle of Euston station.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

Emily had reached him. He tried to laugh at her comment, but failed, and instead decided to change the subject.

"Good journey?" He asked, as they began to walk towards the tube escalators.

"Not bad."

Their conversation continued, but Kieron had his mind on other things, and was hoping for another sight of the man he had seen disappearing into the underground only a few moments before. But on that count he, at least, was unlucky.

**6:00 pm**

The train had been fairly empty, few people making there way to London at this time of the day, but Euston station was busy. The place thronged with commuters, all of whom seamed to be trying to get on the train he was attempting to get off. He was glad he didn't have much luggage as he made his was through the crowds, it made it easier to move.

The girl in front of him was making a call on her mobile phone.

"Hi Kieron"

_Kieron._ Why was it that he only needed to hear that name, and his heart skipped a beat? If he saw him now, he would probably faint. But it wouldn't be his Kieron. Kieron Hobbs, the man he still loved with all his heart. There were probably thousands of Kierons in London, any of whom could be here, at Euston station, meeting this girl.

It was then that he thought he saw him, for maybe a split second, out of the corner of his eye. He looked left, but the crowd was too thick, he couldn't see to confirm if the talk, handsome man, standing near Smith's was indeed Kieron, or just a figment of his imagination.

He continued his walk, over to the underground, and down the escalators, eventually joining a queue for one of the ticket machines. It took him some time to purchase a single, but eventually he was the other side of the ticket barriers, looking for the Charring Cross branch of the Northern Line.

He was on the escalator when he saw him, and this time there was no mistaking who it was. He was on the other escalator, to the right of his, and about 10 people further down, talking to the girl standing in front of him. John Paul's heart was pounding in his chest as he watched the back of Kieron's head. London was a large city, with millions of people, and yet the one person he most wanted to see was in the same station as him? He didn't believe in fate or destiny, but surely this had to be more than a coincidence. After all, if his train hadn't bee delayed, he would never have seen him.

He wanted to speak to Kieron, to call out for him, but he couldn't. His mouth was dry, and when he got to the bottom of the escalator, he lost Kieron amongst the crowd. As he stood on the platform, waiting for the train, he couldn't help but wonder – _Is that the last time I'll ever set my eyes on him_?


	4. Forsca

**A/N Thank you Unsolved, Electro Girl RID & pazaz of nothing for the reviews, hope you enjoy the next bit!!**

--**Part 4; Forsca**--

Kieron couldn't believe he was doing this. He had just walked into a club for the first time in well over a year. It had been Emmy's idea, of course. She had persuaded him to take her out, not a difficult feat after the beers he had drunk with dinner, but he had thought she meant a local pub, not a central London bar. And several hours, and a lot of drinks, later, she had finally badgered him into taking her to this new club. Forsca. Apparently it was the 'hip new place' to be. The music sounded OK. Actually, he thought he recognised the song. It was one of John Paul's favourites. He looked over at the DJ. Wait a second…

* * *

He couldn't believe he'd been so nervous. The crowd were going wild, and they would have done anything for him in those moments. He loved this feeling, the sheer exhilaration of it. He switched the track from his favourite song, to an old classic, and took a moment to look around the dance floor. He glanced over to the bar, he was in need of a drink, but instead of catching the eye of a barman, he saw the back of a very familiar head…

* * *

He didn't need another drink. What he needed was courage. The courage to go and speak to him. But he couldn't. He simply couldn't bring himself to walk across the dance floor and say 'hello'. One word, one simple word. It didn't matter; he probably hadn't seen him anyway.

Kieron let Emmy lead him onto the dance floor, and let the music wash over him. He let all his feelings go, and just danced. He heard John Paul start to speak, and a disappointed sound pass over the crowd, but he didn't listen to the words, didn't comprehend their meaning. So when he saw _his_ face in front of him, he was slightly surprised.

* * *

John Paul couldn't tear his eyes away from Kieron. He watched him at the bar, watched him walk onto the dance floor, and watched him dance. He didn't know if Kieron had realised that he was the DJ, or if he even cared, but John Paul was simply happy to see him. It had clarified something in his mind.

His set finished less than half an hour later, and he swapped places with another DJ. He walked over to the bar and bought a bottle of beer, in desperate need of both refreshment, and some 'Dutch courage'. He had to speak to Kieron, there were far too many things that needed saying, and he knew this was his only chance, but as he walked over to the tall, handsome man, words failed him.

He found himself standing in front of that man, the man whom he loved, and suddenly the rational of needing to speak to Kieron evaporated. For a split second, their eyes locked, and they were simply standing, looking at each other.

And then their lips met.

Kieron didn't know who had initiated the kiss, himself or John Paul, but it was wonderful. Magical. Perfect. It contained everything he had been missing for the past 18 months – affection, desire and love. How long the kiss lasted before his thoughts kicked in, he didn't know.

_He hurt you. He broke your heart. Can you really go through this again?_

He pushed John Paul away. His heart didn't want to, his heart wanted him to spend the rest of his life with this man, but his head was saying no. He couldn't go through _that_ again.

* * *

John Paul watched, dumbstruck, as Kieron pushed him away, and then ran out of the club. It took him almost a minute to comprehend what had happened, but then he made to most important decision of his life.

He ran after him.


	5. History

**A/N Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! This next bit might not be quite as you expected it. For obvious reasons, I have had to re-write history, so hopefully the backstory/flashback all makes sense.**

**--Part 5; History--**

Kieron hadn't been paying attention to where his feet were taking him; his mind was concentrating on the waves of memories crashing down upon him. Good times and bad times. He wasn't even sure how long he had been running for. He slowed into a walk, rationality creeping back into his mind.

He had left his sister in the club.

He looked around him, trying to get some bearings. His location needed little thought – he was in the middle of Trafalgar Square. He walked over to the edge of the fountain, and sat on it, sitting sideways, and lifting his legs so that he could hug them. He pulled out his phone and text his location to Emmy, and then took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

Eventually, his breathing slowed, and he found himself able to concentrate on only one of his thoughts at a time. That thought was the memory of the worst day of his life. The day after he had broken up with John Paul.

**--Flashback--**

When he had discovered the truth about Niall Rafferty, or Matthew Brownlow as he was really named, he hadn't known what to do. Whom should he tell first, Myra McQueen, or Niall? He had decided to go to the Dog, hoping a pint or two would make his decision easier.

Eventually, he came to the decision that he would tell them both at once, kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, and rang Myra. From her, he ascertained that she was out, but would be home about 5.00pm, _could it wait until then?_ Kieron decided an hour here or there was hardly long when thirty years had passed since the birth of Myra's first child, and he had agreed.

Following his conversation with Myra, he phoned Niall, and asked him if it would be possible for him to meet Kieron at the McQueen house at 5 o'clock. Niall had also agreed, and Kieron was happy that his plan was forming well. He accepted another pint, his third, from Darren Osborne, as he watched Craig Dean walking out of The Dog. He disliked that man. He should have hated him – Craig had driven a wedge between Kieron and John Paul, and now they were over – but Kieron didn't. If his relationship with John Paul had truly been doomed, then there would have been some other obstacle that was too great to overcome, somewhere down the line. _So why wouldn't his heart let go of the blond haired boy?_

An hour later, Kieron was walking up the path to the McQueen house. When he knocked on the door, Myra opened it, and welcomed him in. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see one of John Paul's jumpers discarded carelessly on the stairs, and he had to resist the urge to pick it up, and smell it.

Myra presented him with a cup of tea, and they waited for Niall to arrive. He was less than 10 minutes late, and soon, they were all seated.

Kieron didn't know quite what to say, and soon the relaxed conversation had changed into an awkward, expectant silence. It was probably the four beers he had already drunk that day, which made him blurt it out so suddenly.

"Myra, Niall is your son. His real name is Matthew Brownlow."

The silence quickly changed from expectant, to stunned. But none of them were prepared for what happened next.

Kieron heard someone on the stairs, walking down them, and turned to see who it was. He saw John Paul McQueen walking down them, not looking at them, but at someone at the top of the stairs, and he felt his heart so that familiar flip-flop, and he willed his breath to remain steady. Then he heard a voice from the top of the stairs, muffled and unintelligible, but defiantly male. Finally John Paul turned to look at the sitting room, and his eyes locked with Kieron's. Suddenly he froze, terrified, and he heard the voice from upstairs again.

"John Paul, what's up." Kieron knew that voice, and he felt his heart stutter to a halt as he saw Craig Dean walk down the stairs, a grin plastered across his face. Kieron knew that grin, knew exactly what it meant, exactly what John Paul and Craig had been upstairs doing.

And he ran. Out of that room, and straight back to his flat, where he had packed up all his things, and left Hollyoaks the very same day. He couldn't imagine living within a hundred miles of the man who had just torn his chest open, and ripped his heart to shreds.

--

As the memory faded from his mind, he fought to keep his breathing under control. The anger had long faded, but the sheer heartbreak hadn't, and what was worse was that he still loved John Paul, regardless of his actions on that fateful day. Kieron had run away, ignored all the consequences, the calls and texts from Myra, Niall, Kris and John Paul, and hidden his heart, swearing it would never be broken again. But he hadn't ever been able to stop thinking about him, to stop longing for him, to stop loving John Paul McQueen.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder, and a voice saying his name.


	6. Trafalgar Square

**--Part 6; Trafalgar Square--**

John Paul had run out of the club, to look for Kieron, but he had found no trace of the man. He knew Kieron was a good runner, but he appeared to have evaporated. Trying to hide his disappointment, he made his way back into the club, and over to the bar, where asked for a whiskey. He didn't usually resort to spirits, but he had just missed his second chance at a reunion with Kieron. He was unlikely to get a third.

Someone poked him in the back, and he turned around, surprised.

"You're John Paul, aren't you?"

He looked at the women, bemused. _How did she know his name?_

"My brother can't shut up about you. 18 months and he still goes on and on and on, John Paul this and John Paul that. And when I saw you together, it clicked."

John Paul was still speechless, he could think of no reply for this mysterious woman, whom he now presumed to be Kieron's sister.

"Look, he's in Trafalgar Square." She showed him a phone, displaying a rushed text, confirming this point. "I suggest you go and find him."

John Paul didn't know why he had been given a third chance, but he took it with both hands. He sprinted out of the club, and didn't stop running until he reached Trafalgar Square.

Desperately, he looked around, trying to find Kieron. And then he saw him, faced away from him, sitting on the wall of the fountain, almost exactly in the middle of the square.

John Paul walked over to him, and hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder.

"Kieron?"

The older man turned around, and John Paul saw tears in his eyes. He shouldn't have been surprised, of course his own sudden appearance would dredge up some painful memories for Kieron, but he had rarely seen him crying. John Paul wanted to throw his arms around his ex, but he held back, unsure of what to do, or even what to say.

"I'm sorry."

The words came out before he'd had time to think them through, but once he had said them, he knew that they were right. He was sorry, for what he had done, and he wanted, _needed_, Kieron to hear them.

Kieron didn't move. He watched John Paul walk around until he was standing in front of him. He was still trying to contemplate John Paul's apology – it was so blunt.

"I…" now John Paul faltered. When Kieron had met his apology with silence, he knew he had to explain himself, but those words were harder to find. "We had broken up… I was upset, and he came round… I… I… It meant nothing, Kieron. Nothing." There were tears creeping into John Paul's eyes, but he blinked them away and hoped Kieron would say something.

"You and him…?"

"Nothing, Kieron. I don't love him, I love _you_."

_I love you_. Those words echoed in Kieron's head. He had wanted to hear them, so much more than any apology John Paul could give. Kieron felt like he had almost as much apologising to do; he had run away, left John Paul, his friends Myra and Niall, in fact all the McQueens, during an extremely difficult time for the whole family.

And now? All his anxieties from the past 18 months, months of turmoil and heartbreak had simply evaporated. He wanted to laugh, he hardly knew why, it was almost the relief, as if he hadn't wasted that time, he'd simply been waiting. Waiting for this, this one moment, when nothing else save his love for John Paul mattered.

"John Paul, I love you too."

Nothing else mattered. Proper explanations, apologies, where they were going from here, none of that mattered right now. All that mattered was that he loved John Paul, and John Paul loved him.

Kieron's hands met the sides of John Paul's neck as their head came together, lips meeting in a kiss so passionate that it banished all thoughts from either man's heads. Kieron felt one of John Paul's hand's knitting into his shaggy dark hair, whilst the other slid around his back, for support.

The two men only broke apart when their lungs began to burn with a desperate need for air, but moments later, they were embracing again. Neither of them knew how much time had passed when they heard Kieron's phone beeping. The message was from Emmy, quickly stating that she had found alternative overnight accommodation, and would see him in the morning. It wasn't that that surprised Kieron, he was used to Emmy's exploits, it was the time his phone was displaying. 3.30am.

"We should really be heading home, it's getting late."

John Paul nodded, unsure if Kieron meant that he wanted John Paul to come back to his, desperately hoping that he did. Kieron confirmed this, simply by sliding his hand into John Paul's. Together, they walked over to a bus stop, and waited for the next night bus to appear.


	7. Chez Kieron

**A/N** Warning, here be slashy smut. If ye be offended by such things, skip along to the next chapter, where things will be more T-rated again!

**--Part 6b; Chez Kieron--**

On the bus, Kieron and John Paul hadn't been able to keep their lips off each other, mouths melding, and tongues duelling together. Hands were a different matter, thought. Kieron had had to show a ridiculous amount of restraint, to keep his hands off of John Paul. Every bus stop and every red light, he could feel his arousal growing at the anticipation of what was to come, and he kept wishing the bus would move faster, that he could get home sooner. He needed to be able to **walk** off the bus, and right now, that was looking improbable. He broke off the kiss, and tried to engage John Paul in a boring conversation about their surroundings, but the younger man had other ideas.

"Do you reckon anyone would notice if I sucked you off, right here on this bus?"

Kieron felt his breath catch as John Paul's hand passed across his growing erection; he couldn't even trust himself to answer. The bus was far from full, only a few Friday night revellers, all of whom were probably too drunk to care, were sitting near them, but Kieron knew they would never get away with it.

John Paul, however, was still intent on teasing Kieron, and had now lain his hand on Kieron's crotch, and the twinkle in his eye suggested that he had no plan to move it. Kieron was almost relieved to see that the bus was now approaching his stop. He hit the 'stop' button, and filled his mind with enough thoughts to dampen things down for long enough to reach his flat.

--

Kieron's flat might have only been 5 minutes walk from the bus stop, but he felt like they would never get back. The tension growing between the two men heightened with each and every step, and it wasn't helped by the anticipatory silence that had developed. When they finally made it through the front door, they lost all reservations.

Their mouths crashed together, and hands began roaming over each others bodies, retracing paths they hadn't felt in a year and a half. Clothes were hurriedly discarded in a trail towards Kieron's bedroom, until neither man was wearing more than his boxers.

They fell onto the bed, Kieron rolling them over so that he was on top of John Paul, jolts of electricity shooting through them both as their erections rubbed together through the confines of their cotton enclosures. John Paul's hands slid down to Kieron's arse, gliding under his boxers, before hooking his thumbs over the waistband and pulling them off. His wandering hands, soon found Kieron's dick, slowly beginning to wank him, to the delight of the older man.

Kieron's hands, meanwhile, were rubbing John Paul's nipples, squeezing them, until they stood as proud as his cock. Kieron pulled his tongue out of John Paul's mouth, much to the younger man's dismay, but when Kieron began licking and nipping his way down his body, he moaned gently. He lifted his hips up, helping Kieron slide his boxers off and freeing his erect dick, which Kieron instantly took deeply into his mouth.

John Paul groaned with immense pleasure as Kieron began sucking on his cock. The older man lifted his head, so that his lips were only teasing at the head, twirling his tongue in circles, lapping at the drops of precum that had formed there, then he took John Paul whole in his mouth again.

John Paul looked down at Kieron, his hips bucking as he felt his climax building, but he couldn't let his release happen like this.

"Kieron" he whispered between moans, "I need you inside me."

Kieron understood the younger man's meaning entirely, and slid his cock from his mouth, moving back up the younger man's body to plant a kiss on his lips, before producing a finger for John Paul to suck. Once the proffered finger was covered in John Paul's saliva, Kieron took it, and thrust it deep inside his lover, causing John Paul to release such a guttural groan that he thought he might cum there and then.

John Paul lifted his legs onto Kieron's shoulders, his face begging Kieron to take him now, and Kieron couldn't resist. Slowly he thrust his dick into John Paul, and began slowly thrusting into the younger man. As John Paul began accustomed to the rhythm, he began begging Kieron to thrust "harder" and "faster" into him, and Kieron began to pump John Paul's cock in time with his thrusts.

Their groans became loader and more frequent as both men felt their climaxes building, but it was John Paul who was pushed over the edge first, the tightening of his muscles around Kieron's cock as he came caused him to orgasm barely seconds later.

He pulled out of John Paul, and the two men collapsed back onto the bed.

"You're fucking amazing, do you know that?"


	8. The Morning After

**--Part 7; The morning after the night before--**

Kieron felt himself drifting towards consciousness, and smiled. He could feel John Paul snuggling up to his chest, and the memories of last night were creeping up on him. He knew he hadn't been this happy since he was last in John Paul's arms. That man meant everything to him, and he couldn't believe he was this lucky.

As he lay there, he could hear a tapping on the front door, and gently removing himself from the bed, careful no to wake John Paul, he went to investigate, pulling on boxers and a t-shirt as he went. Upon opening the front door of his flat, he saw Emmy standing there, shoes in hand, knocking.

"Good night?" asked Kieron. Emmy nodded.

"You?" she asked, looking pointedly at his top, lying on the floor. Kieron's grin was answer enough, but he nodded too, and the siblings walked into the small kitchen, Kieron switching the kettle on, whilst Emmy raided the fridge.

"So you two are back together, then?"

"I think so. I hope so."

"Was it worth it? 18 months of moping and heartbreak?"

"The sex, or..?"

"Kieron! Things I do **not** want to think about my big brother doing!"

He laughed, and then replied. "Yes. It was worth it. I love him Emmy. I truly do."

The kettle was boiling now, and Kieron poured them both mugs of tea. He couldn't keep the grin from his face, he felt so happy right now.

"Kieron?"

A voice was coming from his bedroom, and Kieron walked over to where John Paul was sitting, on his bed, covered by the duvet.

"Hey." Kieron replied, smiling.

"Do you now where my boxers went?"

Kieron laughed, grabbing the item off the floor, and throwing them at John Paul.

"I need to go and get my stuff from the club," John Paul commented, as he dressed. Records, my bag, I even have some clean clothes there, believe it or not."

"Did you want something to eat first, before you make your escape?"

John Paul looked up at Kieron, startled. "I didn't mean I wanted to run out," he walked over to Kieron, who smiled.

"I know, I was only teasing," he said, and planted a kiss on John Paul's relieved face. John Paul melted into Kieron, but then the two broke apart, to walk into the kitchen.

"John Paul, Emmy. Emmy, John Paul." He said, as he gestured between the two. Emmy looked up from the magazine she had begun reading.

"We met last night."

A puzzled look formed across Kieron's face, and it was left to John Paul to explain.

"She's the one who told me where you were."

Kieron glared at his sister in amazement. She simply shrugged, and went back to reading her magazine.

John Paul, meanwhile, was taking in the flat. It wasn't a bad size for a one-bed flat, bedroom, which he had already seen, good size kitchen, a living room he had seen briefly which wasn't too small either, and he supposed there must be a bathroom around here somewhere. John Paul thought Kieron must be doing pretty well for himself, although he actually had no idea what Kieron did now. Somehow, he doubted he was still a barman.

Kieron had made them both cups of tea and toast, and was now gesturing that they go into the lounge. John Paul followed, and sat down on a sofa, next to Kieron.

"So…" John Paul began, unsure of what to say. 18 months of catching up could take quite a while.

"What have you been up to?" They both asked at once. Laughing, Kieron gestured to John Paul that he should go first.

"HCC still," he started. "coping with the latest McQueen family scandal, DJing."

"Have you get a regular gig, then?"

"Yea, Thursday nights at the Loft, Saturdays in Town, and the odd gig in Liverpool when I can get there." Kieron nodded, it sounded like John Paul was doing fairly well for himself, especially since he had got a gig in London.

"And last night? Your first in London, or have you been down here lots?"

"First time." John Paul smiled. "It went quite well, don't you think?"

Kieron nodded, and bent in and gave John Paul a swift kiss on the lips. They were falling into old and familiar ways exceedingly quickly, for a pair who had been apart so long. _Was that a good or a bad thing?_ he wondered, but quickly dismissed the thought from his mind, as John Paul snuggled up closer to him. _Of course it was a good thing!_

"Is the McQueen family still as dramatic as ever then?"

"Believe it or not they are starting to calm down. Maybe now it's only me, mum Mercy and Cala, the house is just about big enough for us." Kieron looked questioningly at John Paul, _Where were the other three McQueens?_

Kieron didn't have to speak the question; John Paul read it right out of his mind. "Jacq's with Tony, of course, and Carm and Calvin made it down the aisle, they've got a little place of their own now, and Carm just had her first. Sophie. She's really cute. They made me godfather, can you believe it?" Kieron smiled. He had faith in John Paul, even if John Paul was lacking in self-belief. "Tina's doing her teacher training, splits her time between the High School and HCC. She got so fed up of us, she moved out. She's living in Niall's old flat now." A look of sadness passed over John Paul's face then. "You know Niall was a McQueen?" Kieron nodded, but one word in that sentence stood out. _Was_? "That was a shock to the system, mum having a secret son! Maybe even he couldn't take it. He killed himself. Overdose. Mum said it was weird, one minute he was talking to her, then he seemed really drunk and drowsy, said he wanted a lie down. She went to get him a glass of water, and next thing she knew he was passed out on the floor. The paramedics, the doctors, none of them could help. He didn't leave a note or anything, it was really strange." John Paul's tone was really sombre. "There was a funeral, you know. We tried to contact you, but…"

"I changed my phone."

John Paul nodded. He had suspected as much.

"And Myra?" asked Kieron, trying to steer John Paul onto a happier subject.

"Your disappearance and Niall's death really shook her up, but she got through it. I think mum could handle anything, sometimes. She's her old self again now, really, although she hasn't forgiven Cala yet."

"Why?"

"Cala's moving away, from Chester. First one of the family to go. She's interning at the Herald for her gap year, but come September she'll be living in Manchester, doing a degree in journalism. She keeps telling mum it's not far, but none of us have really left Hollyoaks, and I don't think mum expected Cala would be the first." John Paul shrugged. "Maybe she's just scared we're all growing up. Afraid of getting an empty nest, or something. I'm not sure why, Mercy'll probably hang around for as long as she can, she's all but moved Malachy in already."

"Malachy Fisher, Kris's brother, and Mercy's boyfriend. I'm not sure if you ever met him?"

"Once or twice," replied Kieron. He was quite enjoying getting all the gossip from Hollyoaks, and he loved how close John Paul was to his large family. Kieron might have Emmy, but he didn't speak to his parents any more, and he missed the McQueen family drama. They had felt, especially Cala, Mercy and Myra, like his family for a while, and he did miss them. Just not as much as he had missed John Paul.

"So what have you been up to then?" John Paul's question jolted Kieron out of his daze.

"Um, this and that. I'm a counsellor now, at one of the universities."

"Still helping people with their problems then?" asked John Paul, half smiling.

"Something like that."

"I bet you're great at it."

"Not really."

Kieron hadn't changed at all, still helping people out, still far too modest for his own good. John Paul smiled. Snuggled up next to Kieron, it felt like nothing had changed. He didn't know how long this pure bliss would last, but he wanted to stay this way for ever, lying contented on that sofa for the rest of his life.

His phone, however, had other ideas, cutting through their shared peace with irritating timing.


End file.
